Julian’s eighteenth birthday party. Amidst the cheers and egging of everyone, he pulled me into the penthouse suite on the top floor of the hotel. A night of pure recklessness. I clutched the exquisite Cartier necklace from the bedside table, a hollow, bitter laugh escaping me until dawn. I honestly thought I was the leading lady in his story. Then came the cold light of morning. I heard him on the phone just outside the door, his voice laced with a tenderness I’d never heard before, a sickening sweetness. “Don’t be mad, babe. I was just getting your gift ready last night, remember? Learning how to give a girl a necklace the most romantic way.” The person on the other end seemed to be laughing at him. Julian chuckled, a lazy, mocking edge to his tone. “I just practiced on Avery. Didn’t expect her to take it so seriously.” “You were worried I’d mess up in front of you, right? Don’t worry. My technique’s perfected now.” I pushed the door open, placed the necklace on the bedside table, and walked out without a single glance back. After blocking and deleting him from every contact, I logged into my university application system. My first choice, once an Ivy League dream, was now Westwood University. ……………………………………………. My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, then plunged into icy water. The blood in my veins instantly congealed, my hands and feet turning frigid, alien to my own body. I leaned against the cold wall, taking deep, shaky breaths. Once. Twice. When I pushed the door open again, my face was devoid of all emotion. Inside the room, Julian had just hung up. He saw me, and a flicker of panic crossed his eyes—the panic of being caught. It lasted only a second, quickly replaced by a wave of irritation. “You’re awake?” He pointed at the opened velvet box on the nightstand, his tone arrogant. “Like it? Latest Cartier.” I didn’t even glance at the necklace. My gaze was fixed solely on his face as I asked calmly, “The ‘practice session’ for Seraphina… is it over?” Julian’s face instantly froze. All color drained from his handsome features, then he flushed with furious indignation. “You were listening to my call?” I let out a self-deprecating laugh. It was a shallow sound, but it sliced through the pretense of that false morning like a knife. I didn’t bother answering his pointless question. I walked straight to my bag and pulled open the zipper. My hand was steady. From inside, I took out a black bank card. I walked back to the bed and placed the card beside the velvet box. Then I looked at him, speaking each word slowly and clearly, my voice utterly devoid of tremor. “The practice fee for last night.” “Password: six eights.” Julian was stunned. He’d lived for eighteen years, always the center of the universe, elevated above all. He probably never imagined a woman would one day “pay” him with money. His expression shifted from shock to humiliation, and then to outright fury. I didn’t give him a chance to explode. I picked up the Cartier necklace, idly weighing it in my hand. The chain was cold, the diamonds rough against my fingers. “Add the cost of this necklace,” I added, “that should be enough.” Last night’s images surged uncontrollably into my mind. Julian, clumsy and unsure, putting the necklace on me, his warm breath ghosting against my earlobe. He’d whispered, “Avery, you look so beautiful in this. From now on, I’ll only ever buy these for you.” That lie, at this very moment, triggered a wave of pure nausea, my stomach churning. “Avery!” Julian’s face had turned completely dark, like the sky before a violent storm. He lunged forward, grabbing my wrist with a force that felt like he intended to crush my bones. “What the hell do you mean?!” he roared, veins pulsing visibly at his temples. I was forced to look up, meeting his blazing eyes. “It means,” I looked at him, enunciating each word, pouring every ounce of strength into my voice, “Julian, your cheap affection and clumsy technique are only worth this much.” That sentence completely ignited him. “You’re asking for it!” He raised his hand, a slap hurtling through the air, almost connecting. I didn’t flinch. I even met his gaze, my eyes filled with utter scorn and a profound brokenness. Go ahead and hit me. That one slap would be enough to repay six years of my foolish delusion. His hand, however, stopped mid-air. Just inches from my face. He was momentarily stunned by the dead calm in my eyes. It was a void so absolute, it couldn’t even spare him hatred. Taking advantage of his momentary lapse, I wrenched my hand free. I picked up my bag and, like throwing out trash, tossed the necklace back into its box. Then I turned and walked out, resolute. Behind me, I heard Julian’s staggered, furious breathing. I never looked back. 02: The apartment door clicked shut behind me. All my strength seemed to drain away in an instant. I slumped against the door, slowly sliding to the floor. The tears I’d held back all morning finally broke free. I wasn’t crying for Julian. I was crying for my own sincerity, wasted and fed to a dog for years. I was crying for my dignity, trampled and crushed beneath his heel. My phone vibrated wildly inside my bag. I pulled it out, Julian’s name flashing on the screen, blinding and repulsive. He’d probably snapped back to reality and was calling to confront me. I swiped to answer. Before he could even speak, I said in a glacial voice, “Call me again, and I’m reporting you for harassment.” Then I hung up. And powered down my phone. The world went silent. I rushed into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and cranked the water temperature to its highest. Scalding water rained down on me, turning my skin fiery red. It felt like the only way to wash away every trace and memory of last night. Only when my skin began to sting did I calm down. Wrapped in a towel, I opened my laptop and logged into the university application system. On the screen, my first choice still silently read, “Ivy League.” Back in freshman year of high school, Julian had pulled me under the old oak tree by the campus lake to make a wish. He’d said, “Avery, let’s get into an Ivy League together, okay?” I’d nodded, smiling like an idiot. To keep up with his genius on the STEM path, I’d given up my passion for the arts. All those nights I spent furiously studying now felt like sharp blades, shredding my heart to pieces. Every sacrifice, every effort, seemed like a colossal joke in the face of his casual word: “practice.” My hands trembled. The cursor moved, deleting “Ivy League.” Letter by letter, I typed again. “Westwood University.” The moment I clicked confirm, I felt a kind of lock shattering. Six years. I had finally severed this toxic connection with my own hands. My phone powered on, and dozens of unread messages flooded in. They were all from my best friend, Riley. She sent a screenshot from a SnapChat group called “The City’s Elite Circle.” It was full of the city’s most privileged heirs, just like Julian. Julian had sent an $8888 digital envelope in the group. The caption read: “Mission accomplished. Rest easy.” Immediately, people started egging him on. “Julian’s the man! Practice run smooth?” “Is Seraphina’s gift ready?” Julian replied with a smug sunglasses emoji. “Of course. The practice subject was very cooperative.” “The practice subject.” He didn’t even bother to use my name. Riley’s voice message came through right after, her voice shaking with rage. “Avery, did you see this?! That bastard! He doesn’t even see you as a person!” “Who cares about an Ivy League! Let’s go, to Westwood. I’ll go with you!” I stared at those disgusting chat logs, and the last shred of resentment in my heart was finally extinguished. I remembered last night, when I was almost asleep from exhaustion, Julian held me close. He’d whispered tenderly, “My Avery is so wonderful. Whoever marries her will be so lucky.” Turns out, the luck was Seraphina’s. I was just a prop. I took a deep breath, my fingertips cold as I typed on the screen. My reply to Riley: “Okay. We’ll go together. Somewhere without him.” 03: The next day, Julian realized I was gone. My phone was off, SnapChat blocked. It was as if I’d vanished into thin air. For the first time, he felt that I, his satellite who’d always revolved around him, had gone off orbit. This loss of control made him furious. He roared down the road in his Lamborghini, heading straight for my house. But my housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, stopped him. “Mr. Julian, Miss Avery and her friend went on a graduation trip.” “Trip?” Julian scoffed. “Where to?” “Maui, I think. Miss Avery didn’t say much,” Mrs. Gable said with a smile. Julian went directly to my parents. My parents, completely unaware, greeted him warmly. “Julian, dear, come in, have a seat,” my mom said. “Avery, that girl, just ups and leaves without discussing it with you,” my mom scolded playfully. “It’s fine, Mrs. Wallace. As long as she’s happy,” Julian said, suppressing his anger. My mom FaceTimed me right in front of him. The call connected, and on the screen was my bright smile, with a backdrop of blue skies, clear ocean, and a sandy beach. “Mom, what’s up?” “Nothing, dear. Julian’s here, he wants to say hello.” My mom turned the camera to Julian. My smile remained fixed, my tone light. “Hi! I’m having a blast in Maui. The weather here is amazing.” I skillfully avoided all topics related to him, only chatting about travel anecdotes. Julian watched me, beaming in the video, utterly speechless. An inexplicable irritation simmered inside him, a hollow feeling, as if he’d lost something important. After hanging up, I immediately handed my phone to Riley beside me. “Thanks, Riley. Your virtual background app is a lifesaver.” Riley gave me an “OK” sign. I wasn’t in Maui. I was on a flight to Switzerland, headed for a quiet little town where my aunt lived. I knew Julian had immense power. In the country, finding me would be child’s play for him. I needed to disappear completely for a while. Before the plane took off, I connected to the airport Wi-Fi and did one last thing. I logged into my mobile banking and donated every single cent from the card I’d given Julian to a girls’ education fund in a rural region. After the donation was successful, I screenshotted the e-receipt. Then, using a newly registered email, I anonymously sent it to Julian. The email subject was: “Thank you for the practice fee, Mr. Julian. I’ve made a donation on your behalf.” After doing all that, I turned off my phone, and the plane began to taxi. On the other side, Julian’s phone buzzed with an email notification. He clicked it open, seeing the glaring donation receipt and the scathing subject line. *Bang!* He was so enraged he smashed his phone against the wall. He felt like Avery had played him for a fool! “Avery!” he gritted through clenched teeth. He immediately pulled strings to check my exit records. But he was looking for “Avery Wallace.” And the ticket I bought was under my long-unused maiden name on my passport. For a while, he couldn’t find anything. Julian had never gone to such lengths for a woman, only to be met with dead ends at every turn. He was infuriated. He called Seraphina, hoping for some comfort. Seraphina’s voice was as sweet and delicate as ever: “Julian, darling, how are you doing with my gift?” For the first time, Julian found Seraphina’s voice annoying. Ten thousand feet up in the air. I gazed out at the swirling clouds, deleting all of Julian’s contacts and photos from my phone. I pulled out the diary I’d carried for years. Turning to the last page. There, in my prettiest handwriting, was a single line: “Eighteen, marry Julian.” It had been my only dream for the past six years. Calmly, I tore the page out. Then tore it into tiny pieces. The fragments fluttered from my fingertips like a silent snowfall. I leaned back in my seat, more exhausted than ever before, yet also freer than I’d ever been. And fell into a deep sleep. 04: A month later. Julian’s family held a grand celebration for his university acceptance at the city’s most exclusive hotel, inviting all of high society. And I, completely oblivious, was brought directly from the airport to the banquet hall by my parents, as if I were already a prospective daughter-in-law. I’d just gotten off the plane, dressed in a simple white T-shirt and jeans. Stepping into the glittering banquet hall, I felt completely out of place among the elegantly dressed guests. Like an intruder who’d stumbled into a world of glitz and glamour. My gaze immediately found him. Julian. He was in a perfectly tailored custom suit, surrounded by a throng of people, looking incredibly dashing and full of youthful vigor. Beside him stood Seraphina. She wore a silver, starlit gown that perfectly complemented his suit. They looked like a golden couple, made for each other. Seraphina was laughing, tiptoeing to adjust Julian’s tie, her movements intimate and natural. And Julian, he was looking down at her, his eyes dripping with tenderness. Then he saw me. His expression instantly darkened, and then a playful, taunting smile curved his lips. He pushed past the people around him and walked straight towards me. “Had enough fun?” His voice was low but filled with a controller’s mockery. “Decided to come back?” I ignored him. Didn’t even spare him a glance. I walked straight to the food station nearby, picked up a slice of tiramisu, and slowly ate it with a small fork. Ignorance was the best form of retaliation. Julian’s fist clenched at his side. He’d never been ignored so thoroughly before. Just as he was about to erupt, his mother, Mrs. Harrington, walked over. “Oh, Avery’s back!” Mrs. Harrington warmly took my hand, announcing loudly to the surrounding guests: “Everyone, let me introduce you to our Avery. She grew up with our Julian, and she also got into a fantastic university this year!” Those words instantly thrust me into the spotlight. Seraphina also elegantly walked over, linking arms with Mrs. Harrington, her smile flawless. “Mrs. Harrington, Avery must have gotten into an Ivy League, just like Julian, right? I truly envy your childhood sweethearts’ bond.” With that one sentence, she threw me straight into the fire. All eyes were on me, waiting to hear a charming story of a golden couple. Julian, too, stood with his arms crossed, watching me with an amused expression. He was waiting. Waiting for me to lower my head, waiting for me to admit I still couldn’t leave him, couldn’t leave the world he represented. I put down my dessert fork and dabbed my mouth with a napkin. Then, under everyone’s watchful eyes, I calmly took out my phone from my bag. I didn’t show it to anyone. I just lit up the screen and walked to the emcee’s microphone. *Beep—* A soft sound as I turned on the microphone. Everyone’s attention was drawn to me. I looked at the text on my screen, reading it out clearly and calmly. “Avery Wallace, congratulations on your admission to Westwood University.” The entire hall fell silent. Even the background music seemed to pause. Julian’s smile instantly froze. He lunged forward, snatching my phone from my hand. When he saw the bright red university seal on the screen, all the blood in his body seemed to rush to his head. His eyes were bloodshot as he glared at me, his voice hoarse with rage. “Are you insane?! To spite me, you’re throwing away an Ivy League spot?!” I met his crumbling gaze, my eyes as calm as a deep pool. I took back my phone and raised the microphone again. Facing everyone, and facing him, I softly said one sentence. “Julian, I think you’ve got it wrong.” I paused, looking at his distorted face, and smiled faintly. “It’s not that I’m throwing away my future to spite you…” “It’s that you were never my future.”
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